Killer Fashion
by Telebee
Summary: Great fat AU. The Arrancar are fashion models. The Shinigami are policeman. Ichigo is a normal university student dragged into a murder investigation and quite annoyed about it. Grimmichi.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Bleach, characters and their stylish clothing belong to the great Kubo Tite ie All not mine.

A/N: Written very long ago when Ichigo first sliced off Grimmjow's arm in the manga. Does not take into account future character developments. Although I call it Grimmichi, it's really just a light-hearted and fun story. No sex and angst to be found here, sorry.

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Killer Fashion**

**Chapter 1**

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~On a Dark and Stormy Night~

Kurosaki Ichigo, 20 years old, university student, on his way home after a long day at the library working on his research paper, decides to take the short route through the shadier section of the neighborhood.

He expected to be mugged or harassed by gangsters or something unpleasant like that. That's fine because he had the sort of upbringing that meant he could handle it.

But it was entirely unexpected when an obnoxious, blue-haired and highly intoxicated guy stumbled into his arms and promptly groped him.

"Hey babe, looking for some fun?"

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~The Next Morning~

.

"Hichigo?" The receptionist raised a skeptical eyebrow, "You're looking for Shirosaki Hichigo?"

"Right, yeah," Ichigo told her, scowl deepening in irritation, "He's my brother. My twin brother."

"Oh?" She replied, sounding highly unconvinced, "Well, if you'll just wait here. Mr. Shirosaki is currently engaged in a photo shoot."

"I know that. He asked me to come pass him some stuff. So could you just point me in the right direction?"

"I'm sorry, that's a little troublesome. I'll have to contact his agent first."

Ichigo could only let out a small growl of impatience.

That's why he hates visiting the studio, Hichigo's damn staff are always so paranoid that he'd turn out to be some psycho stalker or reporter. _They are twins, goddammit. Can't anyone see the resemblance?_

Flipping out his phone, he angrily stabbed in a number.

"Hey, your receptionist won't let me in," he growled once the line got through, "Eh? Oh, ok."

He held the phone out to the lady at the counter. She looked at it suspiciously but took it.

"Hello? What—Sir! I'm terribly sorr—Yes, sir! Immediately sir!"

Hanging up, she passed the phone back to Ichigo with shaking hands, "I'm so sorry, I had no idea!"

"It's all right. So do I have security clearance now?"

"Right this way sir. Oh, would—would you let me buy you a drink for the trouble? Later?" She looked at him with beseeching eyes.

"…Huh?"

.

He managed to shake off the receptionist only 5 minutes later. It isn't easy having an internationally renowned supermodel for a brother. When people are not snubbing you, they're harassing you.

Ichigo blinked as he stepped into the shooting pen, eyes immediately shutting in protest against the harsh spotlights and flashing cameras. He squinted at the mess of photographers and models, trying to catch sight of a tuff of white hair or a glint of hard blue eyes.

"I'm over here, aibou," a voice whispered into his ear and an arm slipped around his neck.

Ichigo couldn't stop the panicked squeak but immediately masked it with an awkward cough, then he elbowed his assailant in the gut.

"How many times do I have to tell you! Don't do that again!" he hissed.

"Am I not allowed to show affection for my favourite twin?" Hichgo asked in mock hurt.

"Shut up. Here's your stuff," Ichigo told him brusquely, dumping the package he had been holding into his twin's arm, "Stop leaving things at home on purpose."

"That's an unfounded accusation. Maybe I'm just forgetful," Hichigo answered with a sly grin, "Want a ride home?"

"Eh, nah, I'm fine."

"Stay for lunch. I''ll be done in 15 minutes."

"Thanks but, hm let me think, how about— NO," Ichigo growled out and turned to go, but his brother grabbed his sleeve.

"Come on, it's just 15 minutes. I'll take you somewhere nice."

He'd make a snappy comeback and introduce his knee somewhere tender, but someone interrupted: "Is this man bothering you?" And it all went to hell.

.

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Grimmjow stumbled through the door with a pounding headache.

He can't remember what happened the night before but it'd be an anomaly if he did.

_Anomaly._

Fancy new word he picked up from one of Aizen's coffee-table magazines about murder and rape and forensic science.

Very useful word. Like how his being late wasn't an anomaly, but Gin's not being there to bite his head off about it was.

Like how that orange-headed boy Shirosaki Hichigo was draping himself over is an anomaly.

A very good-looking anomaly.

Shrugging off a few flustered makeup assistants, Grimmjow slouched over to acquaint himself with said anomaly.

"Stay for lunch," Hichigo, the stuck-up overrated asshole, was telling Mr. Anomaly, "I'll be done in 15 minutes."

Mr. Anomaly politely told him to fuck off.

"Come on," the shameless grease bag continued, "It's just 15 minutes. I'll take you somewhere nice."

Sickened by the cheesy, C-grade movie dialogue, Grimmjow cut in.

"Is this man bothering you?" He asked with all his totally casual bad boy charm.

There was a moment of foreboding silence as Mr. Anomaly turned to stare at him in vague shock and disbelief.

He was extremely surprised too, of course, to be socked straight in the jaw.

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TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Bleach, characters and their stylish clothing belong to the great Kubo Tite ie All not mine.

A/N: Still no sex and angst to be found here...

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Killer Fashion**

**Chapter 2**

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Grimmjow knows hangovers make him a mean, nasty bastard.

They also made him irresistibly sexy.

The second part doesn't really matter as much because Grimmjow believes himself to be irresistibly sexy as a default.

And right now, he was all ready to introduce the 'mean, nasty bastard' part to Mr. Anomaly.

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"What the fuck was that for?!"

Grimmjow can forgive a lot of things if the other party is cute. But not the face, no one hurts his face and gets away with it.

"Last night," replied Mr. Anomaly, with enough venom to poison a small city.

That's an unexpected answer. Grimmjow was pretty sure he woke up in an empty bed this morning.

He tried to recall last night, but as he was thinking, Shirosaki barged in— "What did you do to my brother, you jackass?"

Grimmjow turned to glare at his co-worker, then froze.

_Brother?_ Ok, so Mr. Anomaly is the asshole's brother. That puts a damper on their relationship.

"Stay out of this Hichigo" Mr. Anomaly snapped, sounding quite annoyed.

Grimmjow understands his frustration; he'd be upset if he were related to the asshole too.

"What did he do Ichi? If he laid one finger on you I would—"

"Don't be stupid. That guy threw up on me yesterday—I think he was really drunk—"

"You punched me for that?" Grimmjow injected incredulously. Some people would pay for him to throw up on them. (But Grimmjow keeps away from those people because frankly, that's too weird, even for him.)

"What, should I puke back on you instead?" Ichigo gave him a withering glare, "You also passed out and I had to haul your skinny ass down to a motel. Then I got mugged on the way there and lost my laptop along with all my papers for this term. Be glad I didn't just dump you in the river."

Grimmjow winced, _that's pretty awful_, but was all ready to retort, but was stopped when someone breathed by his ear—

"How interesting. Can I join this little party?"

_Oh crap, it's Gin._ Grimmjow jerked away immediately, batting at his ear. He hadn't notice the manager lurking around. Granted, he didn't notice much upon fixing his predatory gaze on Ichigo, but hey, he should have noticed the danger sign flashing in the form of one extremely pissed off manager.

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Normal people can't tell when Gin's angry. He wears the same annoying little smile all the time, even when he's planning murder. Especially when he's planning murder.

"Oh, look who decided to finally grace us with his presence. Had a late night, Grimmy?" Gin smiled.

That same sinister smile._ He probably pushed old ladies down the stairs with it._

Grimmjow tried to hide his grimace. Last time he sneered in Gin's face, he was inexplicably suspended from work for a week.

"Shove off," Ichigo told his brother, "I'm leaving now."

Gin's discomforting attention immediately found another victim.

"Ah, hello there Ichigo. What a pleasant surprise."

Gin sidles up to the boy and rests a hand too naturally on his shoulder, "Have you thought about my offer?"

_No,_ Grimmjow thought vehemently, glaring daggers at the manager's hand_._

He felt strange satisfaction when Ichigo shrugged off Gin's hand with a frown, uh, a deeper frown and said, "I already said no."

"But look how well your brother's doing. Surely you'd like some pocket money?" Gin continued smiling.

"I'm already working at Urahara's," Ichigo sighed, "And I've really got to go now."

.

"Such a pity," Gin commented after Ichigo struggled his way out of the studio, "We would all have so much fun together."

"You leave my brother alone," Hichigo glared, but his threat didn't come out very effectively, as he was nursing his toe-- The toe Ichigo had stomped on to get away.

Grimmjow would have sniggered, but his jaw was also a little sore.

"Little bastard," Hichigo muttered as a bunch of make-up assistants and miscellaneous personnel rushed up to fuss over him, "I'm going to kill that brat someday."

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TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Bleach, characters and their stylish clothing belong to the great Kubo Tite ie All not mine.

A/N: Last bit of the stuff I wrote in the past. Current pending continuation.

**  
Killer Fashion**

**Chapter 3**

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~The Police Station~

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There were a few policemen scattered throughout the police station, but they all looked frustrated, tired and very, very busy.

Ichigo edged cautiously into the office area, up to the reception counter and said, "Um, I would like to report a robbery."

The policeman—no, policewoman, there's no mistaking that with the amount of cleavage she was revealing—on duty looked up from her magazine and regarded him with a raised eyebrow.

She's very beautiful, with long wavy hair and sultry eyes, but this impression of feminine grace was erased almost immediately when she hollered across the station, "Oooi Zaraki, there's a sucker here for you!"

"Fuck off Matsumoto!" A shout echoed back from the same general direction.

She then turned to Ichigo and said briefly, "Room 11, to your right and keep going."

Then she kicked her legs onto the table, shifted into a comfortable position and went back to reading her magazine.

Ichigo muttered a thanks, which Officer Matsumoto barely acknowledged, and started apprehensively for Room 11 and Officer Zaraki.

.

When Ichigo walked past cubicle 9 and rounded the corner to table 10, he caught sight of 2 police officers smoking in the stairwell, looking more like gangsters than servants of the Law. One of them wore dark shades and the other had a gleaming shaved head, they both glared at him for looking and the bald one made a rude gesture.

His impression of the police greatly diminished, Ichigo entered Officer Zaraki's office with low expectations.

Officer Zaraki met those expectations and brought them crashing down into the negative zone.

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"Officer, I'm here to report—"

BANG! BANG!

Two shots rang out and Ichigo froze in horror. There were 2 new, smoking holes in the wall right beside him.

"Who let you in? Get the hell out of my office!" The tall, dark and menacing officer sneered at him, gun still in hand.

"Are you crazy?!" Ichigo exclaimed in disbelief, "That could have hit me, you asshole!"

Officer Zaraki ignored him and shouted out the door, "Ikkaku! You useless piece of shit! I told you not to let anyone in!"

"You're on duty today captain," someone shouted back.

"What the fuck! Who the hell do you think I am? I'm a fucking Lieutenant, I don't have office duty!"

"You're being punished for the last time Yachiru trashed the Superintendent's office, cap."

"Fuck! I'm never letting that kid in here again!" Zaraki grumbled then glared at Ichigo, "All right. What do you want?"

"I just want to report a robbery," Ichigo snapped, "I need the police report to claim my laptop insurance."

"Sit down, kid," Zaraki opened a drawer and dug through the mess of paper inside, finally pulling out an extremely crumpled form. He smoothened it haphazardly on his desk and tossed a pen at Ichigo, "Fill this in and don't say another word to me."

.

While Ichigo worked on the form, Zaraki was on the phone with about 3 different people at the same time. He was mostly shouting things like "Fuck you! What the hell did they teach you in fucking police school? Useless piece of shit!" into the speaker.

This continued even when Ichigo had completed everything. He sat impatiently and waited for Zaraki to finish shouting at the person on the other line, not quite daring to interrupt the other in the middle of his verbal abuse.

When the other man finally slammed his phone down, Ichigo shoved his form forward eagerly.

Zaraki glared at him, "What the hell are you still doing here?"

"I already said I need a copy of the police report to claim my insurance," Ichigo glared back.

Although he was visibly pissed off, the officer picked up Ichigo's form and started reading. Surprisingly, it seemed to have caught his attention.

"This happened yesterday night in Narajuku?" Zaraki looked at Ichigo seriously for the first time.

Ichigo nodded silently, slightly wary of his sudden change in attitude.

"You said the robber is a fat guy of average height…"

"He was about my height," Ichigo clarified, "I'm 174cm."

"Was he wearing a black duster, kind of unshaven?"

"It was dark, but that sounds about right," Ichigo looked up in surprise, "Do you know the culprit?"

"Not personally," Zaraki said grimly. He opened a file and pushed a photograph in front of Ichigo, "Was this the guy that robbed you?"

It was the robber from last night…but with a gaping hole where his heart used to be. The wall he slumped against was splattered with blood and his face was twisted into an expression of extreme horror. Though just a photograph, it was enough to turn Ichigo's stomach.

"Wha-What happened?" he asked weakly.

"Why don't you tell me?" Zaraki replied, smiling nastily down at him.

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TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Bleach, characters and their stylish clothing belong to the great Kubo Tite ie All not mine.

A/N: Someone please teach me how to get paragraph breaks in FF's af;kajf stupid document editor.

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...

_I didn't come to the police station to get detained_, Ichigo grumbled to himself. Zaraki had spent the last hour grilling him for information he didn't have. In fact, he'd like a few answers himself, mainly: Did they find his laptop at the crime scene and, if they did, can he have it back?

"So you coincidentally stayed in school for too long, then coincidentally decided to take a different route home, and coincidentally got robbed by a man who coincidentally got killed right afterwards?" Officer Zaraki summarized his findings, "A lot of coincidences eh?"

"You're not honestly suspecting I killed the guy right?" Ichigo asked the officer incredulously.

"I'm the one asking the questions here," the other man growled darkly, "What did you do with his heart after ripping it out?"

"You've got to be kidding me!" Ichigo shouted in outrage, "I didn't kill that guy! That's absurd! You're absurd!"

"Oh?" Zaraki smirked dangerously, "Why's that?"

"I-I…" Ichigo was at a loss of words from the unreasonableness of it all. Isn't it just obvious that he's not a murderer? What kind of murderer is stupid enough to walk straight into a police station the day after? And he lost his laptop as well! All because of some boozed-up idiot…That's the last fucking good deed he'd ever do!

_Wait…that boozed-up idiot…  
_

"I had someone with me last night," Ichigo told Officer Zaraki with newfound confidence.

"Ha! An accomplice!"

"No! An alibi!" Ichigo retorted, "I was bringing him to a motel when I got mugged and…and we went straight to the motel afterwards. No killing or anything."

Officer Zaraki grunted contemptuously and pushed him the telephone, "Fine, get your boyfriend to come down now and make a statement."

…_Boyfriend? What?_

"He was a complete stranger!!" Ichigo erupted.

Only a little later –but still a little too late- did Ichigo realize what his words implied. The look of revulsion on Zaraki's face said it all.

.

..

With much futile and desperate explanation, Ichigo attempted to clarify the situation.

But Officer Zaraki ignored everything he said and issued an ultimatum.

"You find this guy, or I throw you in the cell."

"Fuck you! Weren't you listening to a word I said?"

"Watch your mouth when you're talking to an officer of the law, kid," Zaraki spoke with the menace of someone with 2 loaded guns and little reluctance to use them. He took Ichigo by the collar and all but dragged him out of the office.

"Ikkaku! Get your ass over here!"

The bald guy from the stairwell slinked out unwillingly, "Yes, cap. What do you want this time?"

Zaraki shoved Ichigo at him, "You watch this kid until he finds his one-night-stand—"

"THAT'S DEFAMATION!" Ichigo shouted to defend his honour, but was cuffed on the head by Zaraki for interrupting.

"—And you lock him up if he can't," the officer finished, walked swiftly back into his office, and slammed the door shut.

Ichigo and Ikkaku looked dryly at each other, both at a loss for words.

Then the bald policeman shrugged and adjusted his facial expressions into a suitably intimidating sneer, "You heard the captain, so move it!"

.

..

"Hichigo, I need to talk to that blue-haired idiot you work with."

"Aibou, if you're that desperate, you might as well go drown yourself in the river."

"What the—This is serious! Just shut up and give me his number."

"…What makes you think I would have it?"

"You don't?" Ichigo groaned in frustration. Officer Ikkaku was glaring at him with unfriendly sullenness across the cubicle. "Isn't he your colleague?"

"Unfortunately true. But that's the extent of my relationship with him," Hichigo's scorn transmitted clearly over the phone line, "We don't call each other after work and chat about our childhood dreams like you and Mr. Nachos."

"Don't call Chad that!"

"Anyway, I've got to go now. There's a shot coming up."

"What, you're still in the studio? Is that blue—"

"Yes, yes, Jaggerjack is here."

"You could have told me that earlier, you jerk! Get him on the phone, I need to talk to him!"

"No way, he'll contaminate my—"

"GET HIM ON THE PHONE NOW!" Ichigo had lost his temple.

Officer Ikkaku had been joined by Officer Matsumoto. They were clearly gossiping about him, judging from the catty looks the well-endowed lady was giving him. It takes a lot to really get on Ichigo's nerves since he had a lot of tolerance training from the most annoying and insufferable father (and twin) in the world, but anymore of this, he'd go on a rampage.

There was a lot of ill-humored grumbling, followed by a barely audible exchange between Hichigo and the blue-haired bastard on the other end of the line. Ichigo waited impatiently until his brother handed over the phone. When he finally did, Hichigo did not neglect to remind him "Now you own me one, aibou" with malicious glee.

"What the hell do you want?" A gruff, obnoxious voice sneered over the phone.

The voice said a lot about the person. Like how he was probably the sort of guy who runs over puppies then laughs in their owner's face because he's richer and better-looking. He's probably also the sort of guy who gets drunk, harasses random strangers and expects them to be grateful for his largess and feel honoured for his attention the next morning.

Ichigo had never thought he'd ever be so glad to hear a voice like that.

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TBC (…probably)


End file.
